He's here.

I didn't want to do it.

Didn't want to sit in the doctors room, hearing all about the scenarios that might happen at the end.

I lingered outside.

I told Sheldon to head in..I'd be right there.

I went next door and ordered a coffee. 

The barista asked me in a good natured way how my day was.

I heard myself answering.. "Oh..ummm. Well. We have to go talk to our doctor about what happens at the end. My husband.. He's apparently terminal."

I sounded so normal.

So matter of fact.

The look on that poor guys face.

This is not normal.

We left that appointment with raw hearts. So many words I didn't want to hear.

We drove home.

To our sons. 

To pack the car for our holiday. 

I keep thinking about this knowing and planning that we are faced with. It wrestles and rages with the hoping and great faith that I hold. 

Can the act of responsible planning and the realm of great faith coexist? 

Can we talk about a palliative plan and believe for the miraculous in the same breath? 

Maybe. 

I don't know much these days. 

I know tears and a gut wrenching desperation for this to be nothing but a bad dream..

I know I am strong and weak in equal measure. 

I know we have a mandate to live these moments well. To find the smiles and laughs in the midst of the immense sadness. 

I don't know if knowing about the coming goodbye is great.

But not knowing is not that great either. I find myself wondering what I could have said to my mum if I had known that goodbye was coming. 

If we knew the last cup of tea or the last hug was the last, would it have been a sweeter cup? A longer, more precious hug?

No. Don't wait to know- Linger today when you grab your darling in a hug.

Make each catch up cup of tea count.

Jump on that plane.

Don't wait.

Don't wait until you know.

So. 

We are on our holiday. 

We are together. 

We taught the boys the wonder of room service. 

We are taking each moment.

I find myself watching him. Looking for signs of pain or fatigue.  They're there.

He's throwing everything he has.. Every ounce of faith and practicality that he has at this.

He is working to get his body to a reasonable pH level. Just to bring his body to optimal fighting status.

He is drinking reishi mushroom tea. It helps build immunity.

He is taking the "clutching at straws" medication- it makes him so very tired. It's also made him lose his voice.. He has a scratchy whisper thing happening. But he takes the tablets.

He sleeps when he's tired.

He cries when the weight is too much.

He laughs at stupid Facebook videos.

He's here.

He's fighting.

That's all I need.